


The Feline Incident

by ExuberantOcean



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Cats, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28793499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExuberantOcean/pseuds/ExuberantOcean
Summary: Patrick is always the reasonable one, right?
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 23
Kudos: 111





	The Feline Incident

David knew something was wrong the minute Patrick greeted him at the door. His watery eyes, the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his nervous but hopeful smile, it all pointed to trouble. “Patrick, what is happening here?”

Patrick took the bag of take out Chinese food from David. “Well, um, you see-”

He was interrupted by a chirpy meow.

“Is that a cat?”

An orange tabby, lured by the sound of a crinkling paper bag, strode in.

“Why is there a cat in our house?” David asked looking down at the creature that was now snaking between his feet.

“Look, he likes you already.” Patrick said, then sneezed.

“Patrick, why is there a cat in our house?” David repeated, then added, as apparently his husband somehow forgot: “You are very allergic to cats.”

“I found him waiting at our door when I got home and the neighbors said that they saw a minivan dumping Mr. Pumpkin this morning.”

“Mr. Pumpkin?” David said, shuffling further inside until the friendly cat shifted it’s attention more fruitfully back to Patrick. “You named him Mr. Pumpkin?”

“Yeah, well, see he’s orange and-”

“And why aren’t the neighbors keeping him?” David groaned as he made his way to the kitchen for plates.

“They can’t. You know they got that dog…”

David groaned yet again somewhat melodramatically as he returned with the plates and utensils. “Wait. Why are you holding him now?”

“Mr. Pumpkin just wants some love. It’s been a rough day for-” Patrick interrupted himself with a series of sneezes, startling the cat who leaped out his arms and onto the table, right next to the plates David just set down.

“Fur! On the Table.” David gestured to the table dramatically. Patrick picked up Mr. Pumpkin and placed him on the floor.

“Can we just try it out?” Patrick pleaded. 

“Patrick, just look at yourself!” David said, as he scooped out some kung pao. “You can barely keep your eyes open.”

“That’s just a bit of an exaggeration. Beside, I can get some-” Patrick sneezed again before finishing, “antihistamines.”

“As it is, I have to handle all the cat fur knitted scarves at the store. Patrick, this is a whole cat.”

“Just for a day? He’s already been rejected cruelly once today. And it’s cold outside.”

David closed his eyes. Largely because he found it impossibly hard to deny Patrick anything when Patrick looked at him like that. But it was clear that he was going to have to be the reasonable one. Which was entirely unfair. David thought it was well established that Patrick was the reasonable one in this relationship. He sighed, looked down at the cat, then back up at Patrick.

“One night? I already took some Benadryl. I bet it’ll kick in any minute now.” Patrick pleaded.

David sighed again, louder and more dramatically. The truth was, there really was no way to unload a cat at 7pm on a December night except outside, and he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Besides, the cold rain was likely to turn to snow soon, and even he didn’t care for letting the thing freeze outside overnight (though he was never going to admit it).

“Tonight, but we need to get rid of it tomorrow.”

“Tanks David,” Patrick sneezed.

Dinner started with a procession of sneezes and ended with David shuffling a bleary eyed Patrick off to bed as the benadryl took effect. The cat made cheerful purf sounds and jumped on the bed with Patrick. 

“Oh no,” David said, scooping up the cat.

“S’lonely,” Patrick mumbled, his eyes already closed.

“I’m right here,” David said.

“Meant the cat.”

“Ah, no. No way are you sleeping with the orange ball of allergens.”

David was expecting an argument, but Patrick was already out. David smiled at his slumbering husband for a moment before turning his attention to the now squirming cat in his hands. “What are we doing with you?” David asked as he marched it right out of the room, carefully closing the bedroom door before putting the cat down on the floor. It took a few steps away from him before smartly cleaning itself.

David fetched his laptop and phone then padded out to the living room. He had to find a home for this furball and fast, before Patrick got any more attached. Shortly after he made a post on facebook, he felt the cat jump up onto the couch next to him and heard it begin to purr as it rubbed up against him. “Fur. On my sweater.” David complained, but found himself petting it instead of pushing it away. It was incredibly soft. The cat closed its eyes in apparent ecstasy.

“This is not going to work with me.” David said and, as if to prove his point, he sent a text over to Stevie.

_ No. No way. Not with all the travel I do. _ Stevie responded. 

_ You can find someone to watch him while you’re away. _

_ And who do you think will volunteer to take on that duty? _

_ Point. _

By the time David contacted Ronnie, Mr. Pumpkin had somehow found his way into David’s lap and settled into a soft ball. Despite himself, David felt himself relaxing. Unfortunately Ronnie was about as enthused as Steve about taking Mr. Pumpkin in. 

‘

“What am I going to do with you?” David asked.

Mr. Pumpkin gave him a chirpy meow and nudged his hand. David huffed and resumed petting him. He never thought of himself as a cat person, or any kind of pet person really, but he could now see the appeal.

“No,” he told Mr. Pumpkin. “We can’t keep you. You make Patrick sick.”

The cat purred loudly.

“That’s not going to work on me.”

David noticed he had a facebook alert and clicked on. A few quick exchanges later, and he picked up the cat to speak to him eye to eye. “Twyla will take good care of you.”

“Meow.”

***

If David felt any reluctance rehoming Mr. Pumpkin (which he absolutely, totally was not, thank you very much) it all evaporated the next morning when Patrick woke up coughing and phlegmy. 

“I can go to da pharmacy first ding.” Patrick said as David peered up at him pointedly from half under the covers.

“No, I’ll go to the pharmacy after Twyla stops by to pick up the creature.” David said. He squinted at the clock. Oh my god it was only five fucking thirty.

Patrick frowned and gave David puppy dog eyes but the effect was wrecked by his red and runny eyes

“Your body’s leaking all kinds of disgusting bodily fluids.” David complained. “We can’t keep him. And besides, I’m sure Twyla will take good care of Mr. Pumpkin.”

Any hopes of getting more sleep were doomed by Patrick’s increasingly incessant coughing and Mr. Pumpkin’s friendly but insistent meows. So David insisted that Patrick stay in bed and headed out of the warmth of the covers to take care of both his husband and the cat.

First David got the espresso machine and the kettle going, all the while the cat wound between his feet with meows that were quickly becoming frantic.

“Oh fuck,” David said, realizing he was probably hungry...or maybe thirsty. David fetched a couple smaller bowls and filled one up with water and set it down for the cat before rooting around in his cabinets for something kitty safe. 

Five minutes later, Mr. Pumpkin was hungrily devouring a can of tuna and David was serving Patrick tea with lemon and honey. The two sat in bed together peacefully sipping their drinks.

“What time is Twyla coming?” Patrick asked halfway through the tea.

“Seven,” David said, and turned to peer at the clock. “Which gives me just about enough time to finish my coffee and get ready.”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “A guest before ten?”

“Desperate times,” David snorted. Just then Mr. Pumpkin jumped on the bed. David groaned and moved to usher him off.

“No, David, please just allow him? If I have to give him up, let me at least have the next hour.” David knew he should say no, but Patrick was already petting the cat and something about seeing Patrick relaxing and loving the cat touched something within him, not that he wanted to admit it. So David sighed dramatically, put his now empty mug down beside the bed and wordlessly made his way to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

By the time he was out, Twyla was ringing the doorbell. She cheerfully started in on a story about her second cousin and her ex as she opened the cat carrier. Patrick was still in his pajamas (and still coughing, David noted) when came in with an armful of cat. 

“Oh, he’s adorable,” Twyla said, walking over to take Mr. Pumpkin.

Patrick hesitated, then gave Mr. Pumpkin a snuggle before handing him over.

“I’ll take good care of him, I promise.” Twyla said.

Patrick nodded and, while it was hard to tell since his eyes had been watery since last night, David suspected he was holding back tears. He abruptly walked out of the room.

Twyla turned to David with a worried look in her eye. “Is he going to be alright?”

“Yeah,” said David with a frown as he watched Patrick’s retreat, his mind already at work..

***Two Weeks Later***

When David greeted Patrick at the door, he could barely contain himself. “Come, come, come.”

Patrick gave him a sly smile as he came in with a bag full of groceries for their upcoming holiday festivities. “So what were you doing on this top secret day off? That you couldn’t tell me about?”

“Early present,” David exclaimed pulling on his shirt to urge him into the living room.

“But Christmas isn’t for another few days.”

“But it is Hanukkah,” David exclaimed.

Patrick gave in with a smile and allowed David to pull him over to the living room, “Patrick my husband, meet Mariah!” He gestured grandly to the couch.

Patrick’s face lit up, “It’s a cat!”

“A Sphynx, which is completely hypoallergenic.” David exclaimed. “I got her for you!”

“A gift and you named her for me too I see.” Patrick teased but he was clearly delighted. He settled the groceries down on the coffee table and began petting the black and white cat with large ears, who seemed to eye him judgingly before offering up a purr.

“It’s just her name. It’s the name that she has. She came with the name.” David said in a clearly blatantly lie. Patrick laughed.

“Do you like her?”

“Yes,” Patrick said, leaning in for a kiss. “But not as much as I love you.”

“Mmm, right answer.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
